


99.98% Success

by FiftyStars



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Author Is Sleep Deprived, Awesome May Parker (Spider-Man), BAMF May Parker (Spider-Man), BAMF Peter Parker, Gen, Not Spider-Man: Homecoming Compliant, Panic Attacks, Peter Parker Gets a Hug, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Precious Peter Parker, Protective May Parker (Spider-Man), Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark is Good With Kids, Worried May Parker (Spider-Man)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-12
Updated: 2020-06-12
Packaged: 2021-03-03 22:47:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,654
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24673333
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FiftyStars/pseuds/FiftyStars
Summary: He manipulated the holographic information with ease as he held his screwdriver between his teeth, having rolled his mask up to the bridge of his nose earlier.Click.“Well done Peter,” Karen congratulated warmly, “You were 99.98% successful. I’m proud of you.”OrPeter decides to ask his AI for help, using his brain cells for once. Then Tony Stark shows up.May Parker has had enough.
Relationships: May Parker (Spider-Man) & Peter Parker, May Parker (Spider-Man) & Peter Parker & Tony Stark, May Parker (Spider-Man) & Tony Stark, Peter Parker & Tony Stark
Comments: 21
Kudos: 266





	99.98% Success

**Author's Note:**

> Non lo farò più = I won't do it again (Italian)
> 
> Idk anything about alien weapons, honest.  
> * hides alien weapon behind back *
> 
> We love May Parker.
> 
> No beta we die like krylorians

The Vulture was above the ferry, mechanical wings angled and alien engines whirring to try and counteract Peter’s web, which gripped the weapon with an unshakable force, causing the flying suit to shudder under the strain.

A firm yank dislodged the weapon, and it fell to the floor of the ferry with a thud, where it began to fire plasma beams erratically, scorching the metal. At least they weren't going through the metal anymore.

“You don’t know what you’re messin’ with!” cried the Vulture, before flying off to his evil lair, wherever that was.

He wasn’t wrong.

“Shit!” swore Peter, backing away and dodging the errant blasts. “ Karen? What should I do? Does that thing have an off switch?”

“Negative,” replied his faithful computer wife, “It appears to be malfunctioning due to a dislodged capacitor circuit. I predict it will overload due to a build up in 54.6 seconds. You can short it out temporarily using the Taser web function.”

Karen was way too calm right now, despite her hurried tone, and it almost felt like they were back at home, working on his homemade computer. The smell of burning metal and plastic crowded his senses, and he was hyperaware of every crack that developed as a result of the blasts. 

Stretching out his hand, he shot a web towards it, careful to not disturb the nozzle, which was pointed away from the ferry. The taser activated and zapped the weapon with enough voltage to still its movements. Peter sighed, relieved and anxious. Yikes.

“Now what?” he mumbled, cautiously approaching the stupid thing. 

Think. There must be away to disable it. What would Tony Stark do if he were here. Probably yell at him, fix it and storm off. It was just Peter this time, and he hoped dearly that all that time taking these things apart with Ned paid off.

He picked up the ticking time bomb and webbed to the top of the ferry, where hopefully he could launch it into the water if it went off, though that probably wouldn’t stop it either.

“You now have 16 minutes and 47 seconds before it reactivates, causing it to fire a large amount due to build up of excess plasma. I suggest dismantling the trigger and removing the capacitor. However, there is a 78% chance it may reactivate if the internal systems sense tampering.” Karen interjected helpfully. “ You can avoid this by achieving the same configuration the device had before sustaining damage.” 

Droney, who had been hiding in his suit for the most part, reappeared and ejected the tiniest screwdriver Peter had ever seen. Mr. Stark really had thought of everything, he marvelled. 

He picked it up and began the long process of dismantling and repairing the device. His hand shook with the effort and combined adrenaline from the fight before and his current task. Breathing was difficult, and his focus lay entirely on the destructive entity in his hands. Approximate calculations ran through his brain, instilled by his robotics club years ago, and Karen was invaluable. Peter curled his legs under himself, hunched over slightly.

He was so focused on fixing it, he didn’t hear the whine of repulsors behind him, and his spidey sense was useless due to its constant ringing in his head. Metallic boots touched down behind him, where a small crowd had gathered on the top deck. In the peripheral of his vision he saw red and gold, but at this point he couldn’t bring himself to care.

Projected in front of him were blueprints, which came from Droney’s futuristic hologram technology that was expected from Stark tech. He manipulated the holographic information with ease as he held his screwdriver between his teeth, having rolled his mask up to the bridge of his nose earlier. 

Click.

“Well done Peter,” Karen congratulated warmly, “You were 99.98% successful. I’m proud of you.”

The last piece had slotted into place, and he could breathe. Peter sat back with a huff, rolling his mask back down and shaking out his cramped hands. It felt as if he had been studying for finals for a week. 

A cough sounded in front of him, and he froze. Slowly he raised his head to meet the eyes of the man who had gifted him his suit. His senses focused in on the growing crowd behind him.

There sat Tony Stark himself, in the very armour, sans helmet. He held a coke in one hand, and beside him was a mostly eaten cheese burger. There was an inscrutable expression in his eyes.

“You are a very stubborn spider, who has been sat here for around 12 minutes, fixing a literal bomb you really shouldn’t be anywhere near,” said Iron Man, sounding almost amused, but mostly just pissed, “This was way above your pay grade.”

Peter felt as if his next words, or Mr. Stark’s reaction to them, would make or break his trust and admiration for the man. It had been a long day, and he wanted to go home to May.

The time he had spent focused on the weapon had given him time to think. To realise the way he had been treated, how it had felt wrong.

“It was also way above the pay grade of a bomb disposal squad, or the FBI. Which you didn’t tell me about, by the way.” Peter began relatively calmly, steadily building momentum, “If you came to lecture me or patronise me, please don’t. I don’t know who I am to you, a pet project you can poke when your bored, or a pawn on your chess board. I-”

“You’re neither of those things,” Mr. Stark interrupted, “ I- jeez kid, I didn’t know that was how you felt, I thought you were having fun, webbing about New York in a multi billion dollar suit. Thought you didn’t need an old man to-”

“You thought I was in it for the fun? So- so you thought I thought this was a big game? I’m not a pre-schooler, Mr. Stark, I didn’t think you would treat me like one. What if I had decided to leave this all to the FBI? The dealers, the weapons and the money are all still on the ferry right now, and its not because of the FBI. I’m tired, Mr Stark.” His Queens accent felt thick in the back of his throat. 

The wave of dizziness hit him out of nowhere, the pit in his stomach growling and gnawing at his insides. Damn his metabolism. He was hungry, he wanted to get as far away from the alien tech as possible, and he wanted May.

He knew what he had to do next, as much as it hurt him. He had waited so long to be recognised by the Avengers, only to realise he would never be taken seriously. Especially not when he was in the Stark-made spider suit. He was nothing to them without the suit. He had to prove himself, and as Ben had once told him, actions spoke louder than words.

“You can have the suit back.”

The silence that followed the statement was deafening.

“Kid,” Mr. Stark sounded worried, he noted. “You don’t have to- I mean, why? Is there something wrong with-”

“ The suits perfect. I love Karen, I mean the AI you installed. I’ll miss her. But I didn’t pay for this suit, I didn’t build it either. I can’t accept charity like that, and I don’t like being constantly monitored. I- I just can’t do this anymore.” 

His breath was coming in shorter intervals, and his spidey sense made it clear that he couldn’t spend another moment near the extraterrestrial explosives.

“Just send someone to pick it up, you know where I live. Hell, you know everything about me. You probably have my dental records. I- I’m sorry if I’m not who you thought- I’m sorry, I gotta go, May is gonna be worried sick.”

Peter launched himself off the docked ferry, swinging away into the thick of the skyscrapers that were his shelter and his stepping stones. He landed on the roof of his apartment complex, and collapsed onto his knees. He was aware of the tears soaking the front of his mask, the accumulation of stress and super anxiety, and the past few months. It felt as if the parachute was wrapped around his neck again, cutting off his air supply, drowning him.

A warm hand landed on his back, rubbing in circles soothingly. A voice shushed him gently, and his spidey sense was finally quiet. He was safe.  
His mask was off. It was dark.

“That’s it Pete, there you go, you’re safe, you’re safe. It’s ok, you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to right now. I’m sorry if I made you think my word was law, it really shouldn’t be. Honestly, I’m kind of glad you ignored me, even if I was pissed at you earlier, because I ignore people all the time- and that’s grown up me, should’ve seen me when I was younger. Actually, that’s not a suggestion, don’t look that up” Mr. Stark spoke in a stream of almost nonsense, but it kind of helped.

Peter looked up, and for the first time in his life, saw the gleam of understanding in Tony Stark’s eyes, unhindered by sunglasses or armour. He was safe. He was on the roof of his apartment, and beside him was Mr. Stark.

Unthinkingly, he fell forwards into the older man’s chest, and was hesitantly encircled by strong, warm arms that smelled like gun metal. Safe.

Then reality kicked in with the force of speeding truck.

“Sorry!” said Peter, sitting up immediately, “I wasn’t thinking!”

“Don’t apologise kid, if anything I should be. Royally screwed the pooch. What was this? A panic attack? Didn’t realise it was that bad, jesus.” Mr. Stark said, tone softer than Peter has ever heard it before. 

Carefully, as if trying to pick up an injured cat, he dragged Peter back towards his chest, tucking him back into the crook of his neck.

Peter could have laughed at how terrified he seemed of showing affection to a child.

“Super anxiety,” Peter murmured sleepily. “Call it ‘spidey sense’, came with the spider powers. Tells me when I’m in danger, and I’ve been in danger all day. May is gonna skin me alive for making her worry.”

“I’ll take care of it kid, you just creep through your window, change your clothes, and meet me at your front door. I’m the king if excuses, she won’t even be angry.”

~

Aunt May was furious. 

Peter had never seen her like this before. She tore into Tony Stark with a vigour that made him oddly proud. He picked at the frayed edge of his hoodie sleeve interestedly. 

“What do you mean ‘he was part of the R&D group fixing the backup servers’? He’s 15! Its been all day, almost 9, and I didn’t even get a text! I get that he was accidentally swept up in the chaos, but he isn’t even on payroll! I don’t care if he was the only person who could help, he’s my responsibility!”

“I can put him on payroll,” was the reply.

“Not the point! I’m going to let this slide, just once, but only because Peter looks like a kicked puppy, and you at least came in person. You are a role model for him, Tony, and I haven’t decided if you’re a bad one. He cares about this internship too much, don’t take advantage of it.”

“Of course not May, his safety is my 1st priority, it was just hectic today, and I was called away on a bomb threat during the whole thing.”

May nodded, satisfied. “I saw that on the news, it was so lucky Spider-Man was there to disable it. I guess its as good of an explanation as it can get.”

The she rounded on Peter. 

“You! No calls, no texts, nada! What was I supposed to think?” she fumed.

Peter held up yet another smashed flip phone.

“I’m sorry Aunt May. Non lo farò più ! My phone wouldn’t even turn on.”

“Again? How am I supposed to buy you another?” she despaired, burying her head into her hands.

“I can get him a new phone” said Mr. Stark, only to cower under May’s gaze once more.

“Well, now that you’re here, why don’t you stay for dinner? I ordered Thai.”

At this, Peter visibly perked up. Its been ages since they last had Thai, and he had missed their takeout binges together. He nodded vigorously, moving to place the precious goods in the microwave.

The tiny red screwdriver was securely tucked behind his left ear, and he hummed contentedly. Occasionally, he shot uncertain glances at Mr. Stark - “call me Tony, Mr. Stark was my dad” – over the cartons of Thai, only to be met with a reassuring smile that made the corners of his eyes crinkle. Tony, he mused, was much better than the ominous Mr. Stark.

He seemed human.

Peter dug into his meal with enthusiasm that betrayed just how hungry he had been. May and Tony chattered softly from where they sat on the couches as he finished his food, setting the empty carton down on the coffee table and burying himself into May’s side. 

He clung to her sweater, inhaling the scent of it, of home. The feeling of impossibly soft wool fibres against his finger tips, of the soft rise and fall of her chest with each breath she took. Alive. The sound of her beating heart, the steady pace of it, lulled him to sleep, exhaustion finally pulling him under.

~ 

Tony looked at the sleeping spiderling curled up against his only remaining guardian, and saw someone impossibly young, with all the responsibility of an adult twice his age. The weight of it was heavy on his shoulders, and showed in the way eyes had dark circles, and the frayed edges of his hoodie sleeves. 

Peter Parker, age 15, went to Midtown Tech, had fought the Avengers and held his own, and had dismantled an alien bomb in under 12 minutes. Tony was awed at the bravery he found when he looked and saw past what he wanted to see. A new dimension had been revealed to him today, one which showed him a hero who worked too hard for no recognition at all. He did what was right. No matter the price.

Setting down his own finished meal, he reached over and delicately plucked the screwdriver from behind Peter’s ear, deftly twirling it around his fingers in a way that spoke of familiarity. May watched him knowingly from behind her mug of hot chocolate.

“He grows on you, doesn’t he?” she asked fondly, with the voice of a mother.

“He certainly does,” Tony agreed, before hesitating slightly. “Does he...have anxiety?” 

May takes a deep breath. “He didn’t always used to be like this, y’know? Two years ago, his uncle, my husband, was- he was shot in front of Peter. Wasn’t the same after that, but he’s doing much better now. I’ve never seen him this happy, this alive, and it's all because of the time he spends at the internship.”

Oh. That explained a lot actually. This much loss would have driven Tony mad at Peter’s age, but the spider had kept climbing, had probably barely even stopped to grieve. 

Tony saw Peter, all his faults and foolishness and fervour, and was in awe of what he found. He placed the screwdriver into Peter’s hoodie pocket. He turned to May, looking into her steady, patient eyes.

“I promise you, I am always looking out for your child. He is the future, one I would be honoured to be a part of, in any way I can be.”

May smiled, and in that moment, Tony knew he had answered right.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you all so much for the comments and kudos! This was my first work on this site, and its encouraged me to write so much more :) 💙


End file.
